Rage
by Flek Siner
Summary: Eren is angry. He always has been, and he always will be.


I'm angry. Always. I don't think there has been a time since I was a child where I wasn't angry for most of a day. I don't know why I'm like this. Sometimes I think it's in my blood. Somewhere in my family tree a bitter fruit grew and corrupted the whole plant. But then I think of my mother or father. They would get mad at me, but it was always justified. Their anger was a force that was natural process. There stupid kid got in trouble again or wasn't listening so they got mad.

I see mine as an unnatural thing. A dark force that lives in my brain and can dominate my thoughts. A monster more terrifying than any of the giants on our doorstep. Unstoppable and incorrigible on every front. Nothing can stop it when it gets a hold of the reins.

My anger is not that of a wild beast though. I compare it to a beast, but it has intelligence. An animal that knows how to work with the other creatures of the forest. It won't throw a tantrum at the slightest provocation. That is, of course, until it finds its target. Once it's driven my body to its chosen target it goes berserk.

It takes all of that seething, built up vitriol and hatred, and then unleashes it on whatever poor soul is dumb enough to still be in front of it. Whenever the shackles come off, bloodshed is soon to follow.

* * *

Almost every one of the other graduating cadets knows about my family. Mother and father took in Mikasa after her parents died. What they don't know is the history of our first meeting. Seeing her parents butchered bodies lying on the floor. The blood was seeping into the floor boards. It was the first time I had seen a dead body up close. I had seen a gravedigger carting around his "charges" before, but never an actual person. It sparked something in me.

I'm not sure what it was at the time. It felt like something heavy was hanging one me. I could hear my father muttering about what had happened. He said the girl was gone. She wasn't in the house. He asked to look for her around the house. I could already tell she wasn't. I wasn't moving, I knew what was had happened. And when that realization hit the anger took control.

My father told me to wait at the foot of the mountain. Wait until he came back with the military police. I nodded in agreement and watched as he left. The anger made me move. I knew it wouldn't let me sit still. The things that stole that girl away would escape, and my anger would not let them escape. It followed their trail. The broken sticks and turned over rocks of a stupid animal. The signs of my prey.

They were in one of the abandoned cabins on the mountain. It had belonged to an older couple that was sent to reclaim the wall. It had been left alone out of respect for those that wouldn't return. I could see a flickering light inside. A candle, foolishly, lit by a group of dogs.

I crept up to the house. They didn't have anyone watching for intruders. I slipped in through the front door in the kitchen are. No one heard me, or was in the room at for that matter. They really were animals. Only smart enough to see what's in front of them. I picked up a dusty kitchen knife from the table in the middle of the room.

I needed to be smart. My anger understood that. It knew you had to be subtle when dealing with these kinds of beasts. I moved slowly over to an open closet. I saw a broom and a little rope. I tied the knife to the broom handle, the rage left me to make the weapon. It knew I was better at that kind of thing. I made a spear from the knife and broom; an appropriate weapon for killing pigs.

The door to the main living area was slightly ajar. I could hear them talking. It was amazing how an animal could learn how to speak like that. If I was slow I would have almost mistaken them for normal people. They spoke about selling the girl to someone in the capitol. It was ironic, an animal selling a person as a pet. Listening to them bristled my anger to action. I drew my hunting knife from my back pocket.

I opened the door and announced my presence. I could see the surprise on their faces. I put on a scared face and told them I had gotten lost in the forest. They took my ruse like a fish on a hook. One of them told me to be careful of big bad wolves lurking in the woods. They told me they would help me. I saw his eyes shift in suspicion. I guessed they thought they could get rid of me as well. I guess pigs have bad eyesight. Telling me to look out for wolves when one was right in front of them.

One of them put a hand on my shoulder and the rage took hold. My vision blurred and my hand moved with the anger's will. It drove the small knife I was holding into the pig's neck. The look of surprise on its face vanished with the light in its eyes. I stared at the man with the rage in my eyes. It invited him to follow me as I shut the door.

The animal burst through the door, its axe in hand. I ran forward and the anger that had boiled over screamed. I couldn't hear any of my cries. I could barely see. Everything was red. I still don't know if that was from the blood or the rage. It kept going over and over again. I think the thing had died with the second stab.

My frenzy died down after that. The anger had tired itself out and returned to the depths of my mind. I went to the girl I saw on the ground. Her eyes were wide and still. I did my best to console her while I cut her bonds. I told her my name and who I was. Her only response was to tell me there were three of them.

It was then I saw the brute behind me. His face was furrowed in disgusted rage. It swiftly kicked me in the stomach across the room. It swept me into its large hands and started to throttle me. I gagged and struggled against him as he screamed about murdering me.

I couldn't do anything to stop him. While my anger had quickly been riled back into a manic state, there was only so much a child could do against a full grown man. I looked at the girl on the ground. She was staring at me, still as a mountain.

I labored to yell at her. She had to fight back. I told her that if she fought she would win. She would live. I could see her eyes change. The gears in her mind worked at high speed. I saw something familiar in her eyes. Cold anger turning hot. Melting to reveal the beast within her soul. It cried out for blood. For the brutes blood. She picked up my fallen knife.

She broke the floorboards of the old home with her starting step. She leapt to the pig holding and struck my killer deep in his abdomen. She had won.

Mikasa was like me. Just quieter. She had that anger and rage needed to live in this world. After the last of those false men had died I felt content for a while. Even while my father yelled at for what I had done. It didn't matter what he or anyone else thought. I had done the right thing. Mikasa had done the right thing. And I would continue to live like this.

My anger leading and driving me every step of the way.


End file.
